Not That Bad
by TaliaFox
Summary: Another fight between the two brothers leaves Sam going out by himself when an accident happens. Hurt!Sam Worried!Dean


Dean sat down on his bed after his journey to go find the remote to the t.v. Laying back against the headboard, he began his task of trying to find something good on to watch. Between his flipping, he glanced at a clock on the bedside table.

"C'mon, Sam, what's taking so long?" he wondered.

Part of him wanted to run out the door to go in search of him, his big brother instincts going crazy.

An hour for a food run? When the diner was just a couple blocks away? I don't think so.

The only thing keeping him from calling his brother was the thought that this was just Sam. They'd had a big argument right before breakfast and Sam decided that he would go get the food for both of them.

 _I don't see why he'd be moping about it, though,_ Dean thought, _it was just a little quarrel._

Although, Dean had to admit, it was just a matter of time before it happened. For some reason they'd been at each other's throats recently. By recently, Dean meant through several states. But after the argument started today, they both said some things that they shouldn't have. They just found older things, some already resolved and reopened and some that never were, they just kind of forgot about those, or at least pretended to.

But today…. Let's just say Dean wished he could take some things back and remove the image of Sam's hurt eyes from his memory.

 _That kid and his eyes_ , Dean chuckled as he flipped to the news station, about to flip it again when something caught his eye on camera. They had just moved it from an apparent car accident to the reporter lady.

"It looks like both drivers are in critical condition and are being moved to the hospital as we speak. Others also are going to the hospital for minor injuries." 

Whatever she said after that, Dean didn't listen to. His heart was pounding. He saw a car in the background being towed away. It was unmistakable, especially to him.

That was his 1967 Chevy Impala….

That Sam was driving.

He couldn't see the damage to it, but at that moment he didn't care. He death-gripped his cell phone as dialed and held it up to his face. He knew Sam left with his cell phone, and would answer if Dean called, especially because there might be a case in town.

But it went to voicemail after a few rings.

" _This is Sam, leave a message."_

He knows better than that. But maybe he still is angry… If I call a second time, he'll definitely pick up.

So Dean tried again… with the same results.

Dean picked his jacket up on the way to the door, a rare prayer escaping his lips as he chose a car to hotwire before tearing out towards the only hospital In town, they'd passed it on the way in.

Ignoring every speed limit, stoplight, and stop sign, Dean still got there later than he would have liked.

He ran in and asked the reception nurse where Sam was. "Room 436," came her reply after looking on the computer, and Dean took off towards the elevator. Floor four it is.

Once the doors opened he bolted out of them, scaring several nurses, but Dean's own heart was beating faster and faster, and it felt like someone was trying to shove something down his throat. But he ignored all that. Because he had to get to Sammy.

And once he got to room 436… a nurse was wiping "Sam" off the dry-erase outside with a doctor standing next to her looking at a chart.

He walked unsteadily over and peered into the room. Nothing. No one.

"Excuse me, sir, may I help you?" the nurse asked.

"Did Sam change rooms?" he asked. God, even he knew his voice sounded weak.

Upon realization, the doctor came up and said, "Sam died about five minutes ago. What's your relation to him?"

"He's my brother." 

My God, how many times has he said that? And now he'll never say it again because…

Whatever was shoving its way down his throat won because it stayed there.

"I'm very sorry. Would you like to see him?"

The question processed slowly. Did he want to see his dead brother? 

He nodded and the doctor led him somewhere. He didn't know where, he wasn't paying attention because Sammy was dead. Sammy was dead. Sammy was dead.

 _Sammy was dead._

Moments from the argument today forced its way in between his mantra.

 _Would you just shut up already?_

Please never be quiet, Sam.

 _I'm tired of talking to you._

Please keep talking to me, Sammy.

 _Can we just go?_

Never go away from me.

 _Oh, great, now I get you pouting all day._

I'd definitely take your pouting forever if you just weren't where I'm being led to, Sam.

 _I would much rather be somewhere else right now!_

I would never rather be anywhere else than by your side. Please come back to me.

Dean didn't even know what started it. Those few lines were the least, but they were what started it. If I just hadn't started it, he thought as the doctor led him to a table with someone on it and a sheet covering him up.

The doctor's hands moved toward the head of the sheet to move it back.

Don't be Sammy. Don't be Sammy. Don't be Sammy. God, please don't let it be my Sammy.

The doctor moved the sheet back and, "Thank God," Dean breathed.

"Excuse me?" The doctor asked.

"That's not Sam. Er, that's not my Sam," Dean explained his outburst, looking at a blond haired, short, chubby guy.

The doctor nodded a few times before saying, "I do believe there may have been another Sam here, but his injuries were minor so we sent him on his way after a cast on his arm."

"Thank you," Dean managed to mumble before booking it back to the motel, forgetting the door to his stolen car when he saw the Impala parked in front of the motel.

Dean rushed through the door and nearly fell over with relief, it felt like he could finally take a deep breath because Sammy was okay. He was sitting on the bed, eating his green whatever with a cast on his left wrist.

Sam stood up upon seeing Dean and began to explain, "Dean, the car isn't that bad, I swear. I didn't mean to-"

But whatever he was going to say was muted by Dean's few strides over to Sam and embracing him in one of the tightest hugs ever.

"Dean?" Sam wondered.

"You scared the crap outta me, Sammy."


End file.
